I have to say, I'm a big fan of talking. And I often don't have the filter that other people have. Yes, I've been guilty of the over-share in my life. Big time. But I'm starting to learn the value of keeping quiet.
I have been in therapy for about 10 years...I don't mind admitting it. I've always been prone to depression and talking about it has been an amazing way of going from the scared, immature, broken girl I was at 22 to the content, grown up and accountable woman that I try to be most days. But it hasn't been easy. There have been many layers of thoughts that I've had to sift through, many ugly and frightening beliefs that I've had to challenge and shed. And I'm going to go all spiritual here and say that the only way I've been able to continue along this path is through a belief in a higher power - in my case, God.
It's been an amazing revelation to see that when I continually have problems with people, and get in arguments, the person who I need to look at is the common denominator - me. If I keep having trouble in my workplaces, I need to look at my attitude and the situations that I put myself in. It's been a turnaround to see that most people aren't out to get me, they're just suffering from their own variety of dysfunction. It's been amazing to free people from their pedestals, and to let them be human. My thinking has gone from black and white to shades of grey. I am a perfectionist and get really upset if I don't measure up to my standards, and while this spurs some people on to achieve, it makes me drop out and stop trying. My desire has been to just do the best I can, and to realise that nobody (apart from me ) is judging me. I have also realised that it's unfair to have such high standards of my friends and to persecute them when they don't live up to them. Today I give them space to be who they are.
It's also amazing that, in keeping quiet sometimes, that I can be the one that people confide in, the shoulder that they cry on, instead of being the centre of attention and the one who needs to be propped up.
I had a friend recently ask me about seeing someone to resolve some issues and I realised that this is something I know quite well. I'm thinking about going into the area of counselling, because it fascinates me, the reasons why we do what we do, and the patterns that we repeat in our lives. Knowledge is power, and once you understand why you do what you do, then you have the power to change it. It is painful turning the light onto yourself and examining, but the rewards are...the ability to change behaviour that keeps you trapped. It's amazing.
I'd also like to say how blessed I am to have my wonderful family, and how amazing it is to have such strong, healthy and happy ties with my sisters and my parents. I'm also blessed to be part of an amazing family of inlaws, and have found such great unconditional love in the Hay family. I'm pretty happy and content. (now is the part where I go and have a massive fight with someone..heheheh....pride comes before a fall!)
peace out, homies xoxoxo
ps -if you want to get some counselling about a problem, the best way to do it is to talk to your GP. In Australia, we're lucky to have a very supportive health care program. Your GP can set up a care plan and refer you for 6 visits to a psychologist or counsellor at a reduced rate. Depending on the counsellor's fee structure, these visits may even be free. We are so lucky we live in an age where mental health is so important and its upkeep so well supported. Go Australia! :)
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Shorty's like a melody in my head...
What a weekend.
This weekend, with trepidation and excitement, I set off to my gorgeous friend Tammy's 30th Birthday party. There were bound to be all sorts of cool people there, as Tams is deeply, deeply funky....and I was worried that I wouldn't speak the language. I thought perhaps, that as I live in a small-ish town and don't work for profit, I'd be kinda out of my depth. I haven't visited my Melbs friends much in the past couple of years, things have been busy with Alex and all that, with the recovering from PND thing, and finding my feet in a new town (Sheppo).
It's weird having a child, some people can do it without losing themselves, but I often have a chamelon-like nature. So, I've struggled with being "Deb" and being "mum". Which parts are the immature parts that I don't want anymore, and which parts can I keep? Do I have to wear sensible shoes? Can I still laugh at fart jokes and be generally immature? Is it appropriate to use the slang of yoof, or am I being a try hard? Should I want to talk about tupperware and scrapbooking? Or can I still enjoy celebrity gossip and reading chick lit?
Well, the answer is, the answer is (to quote Winnona Ryder in "Reality Bites")...I don't know. But I'm starting to figure it out. No, I don't have to wear sensible shoes, but it saves time when chasing an errant child. Yes, I can still laugh at fart jokes and be generally immature, but I have to be consistent with my discipling of Alex. It may be somewhat appropriate to use the slang of yoof, although this must be watched, and done with an ironic twist. Nothing worse than being a try hard. I tried to be interested in Tupperware and Scrapbooking, but have realised I'd rather eat dirt. Sorry, ladies, but I just don't get it. And yes, I can still enjoy celebrity gossip and chick lit. I can even join a book club! whee!
So, it's gradually happening, this building of the picture of the real me...like a Polaroid slowly coming into focus. Being involved with STAG has definitely helped, as has finding allies in the trenches of motherhood, a good church, a great psych, and becoming good mates with Mon and Leigh and other STAG-ites.
Back to the weekend. Caught up with my girls, Michele and Tams, and Lucy was there too, which was great. I really enjoyed our chats in the slumber party room. Me, Michele and Luce in three beds across the room. Most of the time, we just chilled out, talking about boys and relationships. I adored it. It's the kind of girl talk that I don't get a lot of time for anymore. Richard and Alex are the people I see and talk to the most, and there's not a lot of satisfying analysis of motives to be had. I also got to hear about men dilemmas and was somewhat cast in the position of relationship expert. I am a bit of a phony, as Richard is only my second relationship, and the only one that's beyond 3 months! It was love at first sight for us, and we've spent a lot of time and energy trying to understand each other. Some days it's easier than others. Mostly, I still think I'll burst at how much I love him and how glad I am that he fell for me, too. But I can remember what it was like to be out there, and to want someone to love me. And how hard it was to get up and dust yourself off when the latest prospect let you down. I know the bravery it takes to keep on crusading for Mr or Ms Right. It's a jungle out there.
I went for long walks (at least an hour, ha!), one by myself, and one with Lucy and Michele. I had breakfast at a beautiful cafe with a gorgeous view all by myself and felt so happy to be alive, that I just beamed. Life is beautiful, when you're content. I was reminded this weekend how wonderful it is to be understood, and to be around people who speak your emotional language, who adore analysis and to whom words are currency. I met Michele's ex, Mark, for the first time, and I really liked him. I liked Jo and Dave, Pete and Rennie, Georgie and Nick, Holly and Daisy, James, Alia and Kip and the other smiley guys around. I though Tammy's parents were wonderful and loved how Linda and Ben made us all feel so welcome. I felt like I was part of a really cool adult school camp. Banter and jokes and innuendo flew around the house at all times. I joined in, I wasn't afraid. I felt like me again, but a new and improved version. I don't have to drink to be this me. I never did, that's the funny thing. The courage to be this me, has been a long time coming.....and it's a precious gift that I am thankful for every day.
Love you all
Deb xoxo
This weekend, with trepidation and excitement, I set off to my gorgeous friend Tammy's 30th Birthday party. There were bound to be all sorts of cool people there, as Tams is deeply, deeply funky....and I was worried that I wouldn't speak the language. I thought perhaps, that as I live in a small-ish town and don't work for profit, I'd be kinda out of my depth. I haven't visited my Melbs friends much in the past couple of years, things have been busy with Alex and all that, with the recovering from PND thing, and finding my feet in a new town (Sheppo).
It's weird having a child, some people can do it without losing themselves, but I often have a chamelon-like nature. So, I've struggled with being "Deb" and being "mum". Which parts are the immature parts that I don't want anymore, and which parts can I keep? Do I have to wear sensible shoes? Can I still laugh at fart jokes and be generally immature? Is it appropriate to use the slang of yoof, or am I being a try hard? Should I want to talk about tupperware and scrapbooking? Or can I still enjoy celebrity gossip and reading chick lit?
Well, the answer is, the answer is (to quote Winnona Ryder in "Reality Bites")...I don't know. But I'm starting to figure it out. No, I don't have to wear sensible shoes, but it saves time when chasing an errant child. Yes, I can still laugh at fart jokes and be generally immature, but I have to be consistent with my discipling of Alex. It may be somewhat appropriate to use the slang of yoof, although this must be watched, and done with an ironic twist. Nothing worse than being a try hard. I tried to be interested in Tupperware and Scrapbooking, but have realised I'd rather eat dirt. Sorry, ladies, but I just don't get it. And yes, I can still enjoy celebrity gossip and chick lit. I can even join a book club! whee!
So, it's gradually happening, this building of the picture of the real me...like a Polaroid slowly coming into focus. Being involved with STAG has definitely helped, as has finding allies in the trenches of motherhood, a good church, a great psych, and becoming good mates with Mon and Leigh and other STAG-ites.
Back to the weekend. Caught up with my girls, Michele and Tams, and Lucy was there too, which was great. I really enjoyed our chats in the slumber party room. Me, Michele and Luce in three beds across the room. Most of the time, we just chilled out, talking about boys and relationships. I adored it. It's the kind of girl talk that I don't get a lot of time for anymore. Richard and Alex are the people I see and talk to the most, and there's not a lot of satisfying analysis of motives to be had. I also got to hear about men dilemmas and was somewhat cast in the position of relationship expert. I am a bit of a phony, as Richard is only my second relationship, and the only one that's beyond 3 months! It was love at first sight for us, and we've spent a lot of time and energy trying to understand each other. Some days it's easier than others. Mostly, I still think I'll burst at how much I love him and how glad I am that he fell for me, too. But I can remember what it was like to be out there, and to want someone to love me. And how hard it was to get up and dust yourself off when the latest prospect let you down. I know the bravery it takes to keep on crusading for Mr or Ms Right. It's a jungle out there.
I went for long walks (at least an hour, ha!), one by myself, and one with Lucy and Michele. I had breakfast at a beautiful cafe with a gorgeous view all by myself and felt so happy to be alive, that I just beamed. Life is beautiful, when you're content. I was reminded this weekend how wonderful it is to be understood, and to be around people who speak your emotional language, who adore analysis and to whom words are currency. I met Michele's ex, Mark, for the first time, and I really liked him. I liked Jo and Dave, Pete and Rennie, Georgie and Nick, Holly and Daisy, James, Alia and Kip and the other smiley guys around. I though Tammy's parents were wonderful and loved how Linda and Ben made us all feel so welcome. I felt like I was part of a really cool adult school camp. Banter and jokes and innuendo flew around the house at all times. I joined in, I wasn't afraid. I felt like me again, but a new and improved version. I don't have to drink to be this me. I never did, that's the funny thing. The courage to be this me, has been a long time coming.....and it's a precious gift that I am thankful for every day.
Love you all
Deb xoxo
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Facebook rehab
They tried to make me go to Rehab, and I said No No no!
Well, last Thursday my husband Richard and I decided that we were spending way too much time on the internet and, therefore, that we'd go from Thursday night til Friday night without switching the computer on.
This sounded easy, but hurt a lot.
I'd just started a new job that was full time, and didn't really see any other people. I had a meltdown all over my friend Mon because I was detoxing. I had less patience with Alex because I wasn't counting down to logging on. I missed catching up with my friend Kristy because I couldn't get into my inbox. I missed the news that my cousin's pop had died. I missed the social interaction. I missed people knowing what I was up to and commenting on it. I missed being able to vent about a friend of mine (ex friend now, I guess) dropping stuff she'd borrowed off on my doorstep with a terse note, after I haven't seen her for about six weeks. we last left things that she'd contact me. I guess that's a "no" on continuing the friendship.
All of these things on their own wouldn't have made me lose it. But, the stress of the new job, the lack of personal contact, the guilt about returning to full time work, the fear of losing a friend, the guilt of missing my catchup, the worry of breaking down in front of my friends, the feeling of being out of control.....Yeah. I didn't like it. I wanted the internet. But, failing that, I wanted chocolate, or a cigarette. I have given up smoking for about 4 or 3 years now (ok, so I quit 4 years ago but took it up again when I had PND. It was the only thing I could concentrate on!). I am on weight watchers so bulk chocolate consumption wasn't really on the agenda. So...I suffered. Tried to keep myself busy...but it was damn hard!
And here's the other thing I realised. I am a bit of an egotist. I am a bit of an exhibitionist. I enjoy people knowing about my life. I'm big on the over-share. I like to talk about me (in moderation, of course). I think what I've learnt from this experience is, it's ok to share your life with people online. Just perhaps, half an hour every second day will do. So that's what I've decided. It's that old curse word of MODERATION. Yes. everything in moderation, well I don't like MODERATION! I LIKE EXCESS, PEOPLE!!! hehehe. But I'm committed to moderation on the net. we'll see.
ps - I broke our bet on Wednesday evening and it felt sweeter than the first bite of chocolate or first puff of a ciggy. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Internet, how I love you.
Well, last Thursday my husband Richard and I decided that we were spending way too much time on the internet and, therefore, that we'd go from Thursday night til Friday night without switching the computer on.
This sounded easy, but hurt a lot.
I'd just started a new job that was full time, and didn't really see any other people. I had a meltdown all over my friend Mon because I was detoxing. I had less patience with Alex because I wasn't counting down to logging on. I missed catching up with my friend Kristy because I couldn't get into my inbox. I missed the news that my cousin's pop had died. I missed the social interaction. I missed people knowing what I was up to and commenting on it. I missed being able to vent about a friend of mine (ex friend now, I guess) dropping stuff she'd borrowed off on my doorstep with a terse note, after I haven't seen her for about six weeks. we last left things that she'd contact me. I guess that's a "no" on continuing the friendship.
All of these things on their own wouldn't have made me lose it. But, the stress of the new job, the lack of personal contact, the guilt about returning to full time work, the fear of losing a friend, the guilt of missing my catchup, the worry of breaking down in front of my friends, the feeling of being out of control.....Yeah. I didn't like it. I wanted the internet. But, failing that, I wanted chocolate, or a cigarette. I have given up smoking for about 4 or 3 years now (ok, so I quit 4 years ago but took it up again when I had PND. It was the only thing I could concentrate on!). I am on weight watchers so bulk chocolate consumption wasn't really on the agenda. So...I suffered. Tried to keep myself busy...but it was damn hard!
And here's the other thing I realised. I am a bit of an egotist. I am a bit of an exhibitionist. I enjoy people knowing about my life. I'm big on the over-share. I like to talk about me (in moderation, of course). I think what I've learnt from this experience is, it's ok to share your life with people online. Just perhaps, half an hour every second day will do. So that's what I've decided. It's that old curse word of MODERATION. Yes. everything in moderation, well I don't like MODERATION! I LIKE EXCESS, PEOPLE!!! hehehe. But I'm committed to moderation on the net. we'll see.
ps - I broke our bet on Wednesday evening and it felt sweeter than the first bite of chocolate or first puff of a ciggy. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Internet, how I love you.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
progress
Howdy all
I'm back on the straight and narrow again. I had a few days where I was having some tummy troubles, and I was eating nothing but toast....but on Saturday, after feeling sick all day.....Richard and I went out to dinner....and I only had 4 points left. I thought "I'll just order a salad"....famous last words. I felt too sicky in the tummy to munch on greenery, so decided a plain pizza would suit me a lot better. Woodfired, if you don't mind. Mmm...Cellar 47 does great pizzas. Anyway....18 points later, I've racked up a massive 38 points for the day. Whoops. But....Richard and I went for a walk, and that's got to have burnt off at least 1/2 a point. heheh.
Then, we decided to go for coffee. I am a pest to the coffee chick at McDonalds and ask for a skim decaf cappuchino. (Yes I know that's a really annoying drink to make, but we all know about me and caffeine). But....as I contemplated my order, Richard asked for a piece of cookies and cream cheesecake. Dear reader, I had to have some. So I did. Another 8 points. aiiee!! But, the slip has been stopped and I've reduced my points by 4 each day to make up for the feast. Phew. PLus, I'm thinking that if I just stay the same this week instead of lose weight, that'll be ok. I am still not exercising heaps....I've still been feeling a lil unwell...but went swimming with Alex today and will start again tomorrow.
I was really active today though, went grocery shopping and cooked 3 meals for later on in the week, and figured out all the points and put them in containers with the points on them. I'm stuuuuffed now!
Start my new job tomorrow...wish me luck!!
Ps Novak Djokovic reminds me of Richard, although his honker is a lot bigger. By honker, I mean nose. Ok, I'm gonna stop now. bye!
I'm back on the straight and narrow again. I had a few days where I was having some tummy troubles, and I was eating nothing but toast....but on Saturday, after feeling sick all day.....Richard and I went out to dinner....and I only had 4 points left. I thought "I'll just order a salad"....famous last words. I felt too sicky in the tummy to munch on greenery, so decided a plain pizza would suit me a lot better. Woodfired, if you don't mind. Mmm...Cellar 47 does great pizzas. Anyway....18 points later, I've racked up a massive 38 points for the day. Whoops. But....Richard and I went for a walk, and that's got to have burnt off at least 1/2 a point. heheh.
Then, we decided to go for coffee. I am a pest to the coffee chick at McDonalds and ask for a skim decaf cappuchino. (Yes I know that's a really annoying drink to make, but we all know about me and caffeine). But....as I contemplated my order, Richard asked for a piece of cookies and cream cheesecake. Dear reader, I had to have some. So I did. Another 8 points. aiiee!! But, the slip has been stopped and I've reduced my points by 4 each day to make up for the feast. Phew. PLus, I'm thinking that if I just stay the same this week instead of lose weight, that'll be ok. I am still not exercising heaps....I've still been feeling a lil unwell...but went swimming with Alex today and will start again tomorrow.
I was really active today though, went grocery shopping and cooked 3 meals for later on in the week, and figured out all the points and put them in containers with the points on them. I'm stuuuuffed now!
Start my new job tomorrow...wish me luck!!
Ps Novak Djokovic reminds me of Richard, although his honker is a lot bigger. By honker, I mean nose. Ok, I'm gonna stop now. bye!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
You've got a friend in me...
Morning all!
For someone who didn't want to wake up this morning, it seems a little unfair that I'm unable to sleep at twenty past two in the morning. Doesn't it? Hmmm.
I have found that since I've had Alex, I am hyper sensitive to caffeine.....I only have to have one coffee, not even strong, at any point during my day, and I will be completely unable to sleep until the wee hours. And so, when I had a diet coke during the Hi 5 performance today (or yesterday), I shoulda known better. Never mind.
I've been sitting here thinking about various things, tidied the house, finished reading my book, and am still zinging. What I've mainly been thinking about are friendships.
Friendships are interesting, are they not? Any relationship is give and take. Sometimes it's hard not to weigh up who is doing more of the giving and who is doing more of the taking. For the most part, I think I'm a pretty generous friend, although I think one of my weaknesses is definitely the fact that I get super annoyed if I feel like I'm being taken for granted. There are a couple of friends that I have, who aren't very good at staying in touch. I have some friends who are happy to see me or talk to me, yet won't initiate contact. I hate that! There are any number of people who I could choose to spend my time with/on, but when you click with someone, you expect there to be some sort of to and fro, not just one person making all the effort.
It used to really burn me up, and I'd have nasty arguments. These days, I have a simpler strategy. If I feel like I'm being taken for granted in a friendship, I stop trying as hard. These days, I value my time, and am not prepared to waste it on people who can't be bothered. Does that sound harsh? I hope not.....I'm not angry with those people, I've just come to realise that they don't need to communicate as often as I do. I have come to realise that I'm a very social person and I need input from others. I'm not someone who can operate in a social vacuum. The nature of my job at the moment (mothering) means that I often spend chunks of time with just Alex for company, and I crave adult conversation. And...I'm not into having to fight hard to occupy people's friend-scape. Not any more.
Recently, on Facebook, I reconnected with one of my best friends from primary school. We had parted ways in less than ideal circumstances, and she'd responded to my apologetic PM. we had a little chat about where we were at, what our families were doing...and then, when I explained why I did what I did, she stopped replying. Years ago, I would have kept talking and wanting a response, but today....I can see that I don't have to know why she isn't writing back. But...I do have to accept it. Some people chose not to be in my life...and that can be hurtful. Some people aren't prepared to give as much as I want from them, and that can be hurtful. Sometimes, I have expectations that aren't met, and friendships wither and are replaced. I have learnt that I can grieve over these lost friendships for only so long....before I start to feel depressed.
What helps me to move forward is to count the wonderful friends who ARE in my life, the family members who I DO speak to regularly, the people who DO reply to my texts and comment on my statuses. It also helps to get things in perspective to realise that you don't have to be present in someone's life to be thinking about them. But, I do like the people who let me know that they're in my life. That's just how I am. And that's ok....because saying and doing what I feel is me being real about me!!
And now...I'm gonna stop spouting psychobabble and try to sleep!
night all xoxo
For someone who didn't want to wake up this morning, it seems a little unfair that I'm unable to sleep at twenty past two in the morning. Doesn't it? Hmmm.
I have found that since I've had Alex, I am hyper sensitive to caffeine.....I only have to have one coffee, not even strong, at any point during my day, and I will be completely unable to sleep until the wee hours. And so, when I had a diet coke during the Hi 5 performance today (or yesterday), I shoulda known better. Never mind.
I've been sitting here thinking about various things, tidied the house, finished reading my book, and am still zinging. What I've mainly been thinking about are friendships.
Friendships are interesting, are they not? Any relationship is give and take. Sometimes it's hard not to weigh up who is doing more of the giving and who is doing more of the taking. For the most part, I think I'm a pretty generous friend, although I think one of my weaknesses is definitely the fact that I get super annoyed if I feel like I'm being taken for granted. There are a couple of friends that I have, who aren't very good at staying in touch. I have some friends who are happy to see me or talk to me, yet won't initiate contact. I hate that! There are any number of people who I could choose to spend my time with/on, but when you click with someone, you expect there to be some sort of to and fro, not just one person making all the effort.
It used to really burn me up, and I'd have nasty arguments. These days, I have a simpler strategy. If I feel like I'm being taken for granted in a friendship, I stop trying as hard. These days, I value my time, and am not prepared to waste it on people who can't be bothered. Does that sound harsh? I hope not.....I'm not angry with those people, I've just come to realise that they don't need to communicate as often as I do. I have come to realise that I'm a very social person and I need input from others. I'm not someone who can operate in a social vacuum. The nature of my job at the moment (mothering) means that I often spend chunks of time with just Alex for company, and I crave adult conversation. And...I'm not into having to fight hard to occupy people's friend-scape. Not any more.
Recently, on Facebook, I reconnected with one of my best friends from primary school. We had parted ways in less than ideal circumstances, and she'd responded to my apologetic PM. we had a little chat about where we were at, what our families were doing...and then, when I explained why I did what I did, she stopped replying. Years ago, I would have kept talking and wanting a response, but today....I can see that I don't have to know why she isn't writing back. But...I do have to accept it. Some people chose not to be in my life...and that can be hurtful. Some people aren't prepared to give as much as I want from them, and that can be hurtful. Sometimes, I have expectations that aren't met, and friendships wither and are replaced. I have learnt that I can grieve over these lost friendships for only so long....before I start to feel depressed.
What helps me to move forward is to count the wonderful friends who ARE in my life, the family members who I DO speak to regularly, the people who DO reply to my texts and comment on my statuses. It also helps to get things in perspective to realise that you don't have to be present in someone's life to be thinking about them. But, I do like the people who let me know that they're in my life. That's just how I am. And that's ok....because saying and doing what I feel is me being real about me!!
And now...I'm gonna stop spouting psychobabble and try to sleep!
night all xoxo
Monday, January 11, 2010
Being mama
What a month.
I'm sitting here at 11pm on Monday night trying to make sense of the past couple of weeks. A little while ago, everything was going along ok....three weeks ago I lost my job. It wasn't the end of the world, as it was a stretch of my abilities - I'd never done a full accounts role before...but I like a challenge and thought I was capable. Nuh uh. Oh well, it gave me more time to get ready for Christmas and our trip to Sydney.
Yes. the one that didn't end up happening.
Alex developed impetigo, which looks a lot like a mosquito bite when it first starts out. Hell, for all we knew, it was a mosquito bite that turned into impetigo. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impetigo
All I know is, he scratched the heck out of himself over Christmas, and only slept a couple of hours straight each night we stayed with Richard's mum in Finley. We returned home to Shep on the 27th of December, with Alex having started on his second set of antibiotics and having two large sores that he'd scratched and scratched, which were covered by dressings instead of mere bandaids.
Thus began my hell of having to change these bandages daily, after his bath so the dressings would come off easier. Sometimes if he saw me coming, he'd run away. We sought advice from my dad (GP) and my mum (nurse) and applied bactroban, betadine, dressings, bandaids, more bandaids, gave panadol, antihistamines......and eventually, graduated to larger and larger dressings, and to pain stop and phernergyn at night so that the poor little man could sleep for more than an hour or two at a time.
I was becoming increasingly desparate and worried about our trip to Sydney. How on earth was I going to cope with his bandages in the heat? I forgot to mention that we were having very very warm days and nights (up to 40 and sometimes not below 27 at night).....which only added to a nice warm moist environment for the Staph infection he now had to reproduce. I sent MMS pictures to mum and dad to get answers and help....we tried so hard to get the infection under control. Richard and I were sleep deprived. Sunday night, I went to bed at 2am after settling Alex and woke at 6.30am because I was so excited about our trip to Sydney.
Monday, Richard took Alex over to see dad so he could check out his sores, and to get mum to help him bath and re-dress the sores. I took advantage of time to myself to pack and catch up with some friends, not catching up on sleep because I wanted to sleep that night. Little did I know.
Richard rang me about 5pm, telling me that he had a letter from dad for the Paediatrican on call, and that we were to go to the emergency room, because his staph infection was way out of control. I felt like a bad mummy - I had only said to Richard the night before that I wondered if we were out of our depth, were we doing all we could do, was this normal? Should we have taken him to the hospital? I guess all I can say is that I had mum constantly on speed dial and that the worsening of his sores was just accepted by us because we kept hoping it would get better. we had no experience of this sort....
Anyhow.....Richard met me at casualty at 8pm. I wish I could tell you we saw the Paediatrican right away, but we all know that things don't work like that. We spent 2 hours waiting in casualty. We spent 1 hour waiting in a cubicle. Eventually alex was given an IV drip, which took 5 people to hold him down, and ended with me sobbing in tears. Poor little Alex was hysterical. that took us to 11.30pm, and we were shown to a new cubicle. around midnight, he was given an infusion of Flucloxacillin, which took an hour. About 1.30am, we were taken to the children's ward. by the time we were settled, it was 2am. Richard left to get some sleep and I eventually settled in the fold out chair/bed by Alex's bed. He was hyper hyper and I had to lay with him until he fell asleep at 3am. He had another infusion at 6am and slept til 9am. I couldnt' go back to sleep after I woke at 6am with his infusion...too afraid that he'd roll over and rip the cannula out of his arm. He's a very restless sleeper.
Richard arrived and took over the day shift whilst I slept. this sort of set the tone for the next few days.
I'd like to say a few things about being in hospital.
- most of the nurses are just wonderful, but there are the ones who are on a power trip, who make inappropriate jokes about your conerns, who ignore you, who lecture you on your three year old's dietary habits. The fantastic nurses just make a horrible experience so much better. The crap ones add to the stress of the situation and made me want to stick a pick axe through their spinal column.
- I hated the out-of-control feeling that hospital gave me - the lack of autonomy. Let me explain. At home, if Alex is fussing, then I can get him what he wants right away....or decide not to give it to him. In hospital, all his food and medicine were logged and handed out by nurses. Who were often very busy with children a lot sicker than Alex. It made me hesitant to ask, but at the same time, I needed the milk/nappy/panadol at the time, not in ten minutes time. Sometimes the nurse I'd ask would forget and I'd have to go and ask again. It was just annoying, cause I'm a total control freak...and I hated having to rely on someone else to get stuff for me.
- being in an isolation room with a rambunctious 3 year old can be, at times, a little slice of hell. Even though I was waking up with his infusions at midnight and 6am (and often not going to sleep in the first place), Alex was mostly sleeping well, and woke each morning full of beans and ready to destroy his toys.
- a tissued cannula (IV drip) is incredibly painful. When a drip comes slightly loose, the fluid from the IV stops going into the veins and starts entering the tissue. I was not aware of this when Alex started to scream in pain at 6am on Wednesday morning. At the ten and twenty minute mark, I had to ask for panadol repeatedly. At the half hour mark, I asked them to do something. they slowed the drip down. Alex and I were both in tears and he was screaming in agony. At the forty minute mark, Nurses were doing handover and one made a joke whilst he screamed in pain about whose fault it was. I had absolutely no idea what was happening to my poor anguished child and nobody told me. At the fifty minute mark, They didn't respond to me pressing the buzzer for about ten minutes, by which time he'd started to writhe around in agony on the bed. finally, after a full hour of intense pain, one of the nurses took his cannula out. She gave absolutely no explanation or reassurance about this, other than to say we'd have to have another drip put in. I was in tears and so upset for my poor son, who'd already been through a lot of trauma even before getting into hospital. When I rang my mum, who is a nurse, she told me what a tissued cannula is, and why it happened. A day nurse finally gave Alex some sympathy. Another nurse told another mum that he was spoilt and not in pain. Fabulous day.
One good thing came out of this, I watched Alex's cannula like a hawk, and if he started to cry or be in pain, I vowed that I would make them remove it at once. At midnight on Friday night, he started to cry. The nurse advised me she'd slow it down. Still, he cried. I buzzed and the nurse told me that they'd stop it and try again later when he was asleep. No. No no no! I said "no. I want you to take it out now. I'm sorry, but I don't want him in any more pain". Luckily I had a supportive nurse, but I was prepared to get shouty if I had to. That's just what being mama is about.
So, here I sit, two days after his discharge from hospital. Alex has to be kept away from daycare and too much contact with other children. At the moment, I am not taking him to be around any children until I have the all clear from the Paediatrician. This is for the other kids' sake, but also for Alex's ....if there is any chance of him catching something else while his immune system is down, I absolutely don't want to take it.
but...as a result, I have cabin fever. I feel very restless and I want to work! But...I also know that most of the office admin jobs are full time and I want to be home with him at least a few days a week. I miss him too much when I work full time. So, what's a girl to do? Try and blog about it, make a list of fun stuff to do with him, count my blessings. Recover from the lack of sleep and try to be normal again. Stop having expectations of friends and family to come to my rescue. My life is mine and God's responsibility. Nobody else owes me a living.
Oh..and I'm gonna....eat a lot of carrots. No points!
Love you all
Deb xoxo
ps - google images came up with a pic of how his sores looked. this is similar, although his were all over one of his legs and on his face. poor monkey!
Kinda gross skin thingy...don't click if squeamish!
I'm sitting here at 11pm on Monday night trying to make sense of the past couple of weeks. A little while ago, everything was going along ok....three weeks ago I lost my job. It wasn't the end of the world, as it was a stretch of my abilities - I'd never done a full accounts role before...but I like a challenge and thought I was capable. Nuh uh. Oh well, it gave me more time to get ready for Christmas and our trip to Sydney.
Yes. the one that didn't end up happening.
Alex developed impetigo, which looks a lot like a mosquito bite when it first starts out. Hell, for all we knew, it was a mosquito bite that turned into impetigo. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impetigo
All I know is, he scratched the heck out of himself over Christmas, and only slept a couple of hours straight each night we stayed with Richard's mum in Finley. We returned home to Shep on the 27th of December, with Alex having started on his second set of antibiotics and having two large sores that he'd scratched and scratched, which were covered by dressings instead of mere bandaids.
Thus began my hell of having to change these bandages daily, after his bath so the dressings would come off easier. Sometimes if he saw me coming, he'd run away. We sought advice from my dad (GP) and my mum (nurse) and applied bactroban, betadine, dressings, bandaids, more bandaids, gave panadol, antihistamines......and eventually, graduated to larger and larger dressings, and to pain stop and phernergyn at night so that the poor little man could sleep for more than an hour or two at a time.
I was becoming increasingly desparate and worried about our trip to Sydney. How on earth was I going to cope with his bandages in the heat? I forgot to mention that we were having very very warm days and nights (up to 40 and sometimes not below 27 at night).....which only added to a nice warm moist environment for the Staph infection he now had to reproduce. I sent MMS pictures to mum and dad to get answers and help....we tried so hard to get the infection under control. Richard and I were sleep deprived. Sunday night, I went to bed at 2am after settling Alex and woke at 6.30am because I was so excited about our trip to Sydney.
Monday, Richard took Alex over to see dad so he could check out his sores, and to get mum to help him bath and re-dress the sores. I took advantage of time to myself to pack and catch up with some friends, not catching up on sleep because I wanted to sleep that night. Little did I know.
Richard rang me about 5pm, telling me that he had a letter from dad for the Paediatrican on call, and that we were to go to the emergency room, because his staph infection was way out of control. I felt like a bad mummy - I had only said to Richard the night before that I wondered if we were out of our depth, were we doing all we could do, was this normal? Should we have taken him to the hospital? I guess all I can say is that I had mum constantly on speed dial and that the worsening of his sores was just accepted by us because we kept hoping it would get better. we had no experience of this sort....
Anyhow.....Richard met me at casualty at 8pm. I wish I could tell you we saw the Paediatrican right away, but we all know that things don't work like that. We spent 2 hours waiting in casualty. We spent 1 hour waiting in a cubicle. Eventually alex was given an IV drip, which took 5 people to hold him down, and ended with me sobbing in tears. Poor little Alex was hysterical. that took us to 11.30pm, and we were shown to a new cubicle. around midnight, he was given an infusion of Flucloxacillin, which took an hour. About 1.30am, we were taken to the children's ward. by the time we were settled, it was 2am. Richard left to get some sleep and I eventually settled in the fold out chair/bed by Alex's bed. He was hyper hyper and I had to lay with him until he fell asleep at 3am. He had another infusion at 6am and slept til 9am. I couldnt' go back to sleep after I woke at 6am with his infusion...too afraid that he'd roll over and rip the cannula out of his arm. He's a very restless sleeper.
Richard arrived and took over the day shift whilst I slept. this sort of set the tone for the next few days.
I'd like to say a few things about being in hospital.
- most of the nurses are just wonderful, but there are the ones who are on a power trip, who make inappropriate jokes about your conerns, who ignore you, who lecture you on your three year old's dietary habits. The fantastic nurses just make a horrible experience so much better. The crap ones add to the stress of the situation and made me want to stick a pick axe through their spinal column.
- I hated the out-of-control feeling that hospital gave me - the lack of autonomy. Let me explain. At home, if Alex is fussing, then I can get him what he wants right away....or decide not to give it to him. In hospital, all his food and medicine were logged and handed out by nurses. Who were often very busy with children a lot sicker than Alex. It made me hesitant to ask, but at the same time, I needed the milk/nappy/panadol at the time, not in ten minutes time. Sometimes the nurse I'd ask would forget and I'd have to go and ask again. It was just annoying, cause I'm a total control freak...and I hated having to rely on someone else to get stuff for me.
- being in an isolation room with a rambunctious 3 year old can be, at times, a little slice of hell. Even though I was waking up with his infusions at midnight and 6am (and often not going to sleep in the first place), Alex was mostly sleeping well, and woke each morning full of beans and ready to destroy his toys.
- a tissued cannula (IV drip) is incredibly painful. When a drip comes slightly loose, the fluid from the IV stops going into the veins and starts entering the tissue. I was not aware of this when Alex started to scream in pain at 6am on Wednesday morning. At the ten and twenty minute mark, I had to ask for panadol repeatedly. At the half hour mark, I asked them to do something. they slowed the drip down. Alex and I were both in tears and he was screaming in agony. At the forty minute mark, Nurses were doing handover and one made a joke whilst he screamed in pain about whose fault it was. I had absolutely no idea what was happening to my poor anguished child and nobody told me. At the fifty minute mark, They didn't respond to me pressing the buzzer for about ten minutes, by which time he'd started to writhe around in agony on the bed. finally, after a full hour of intense pain, one of the nurses took his cannula out. She gave absolutely no explanation or reassurance about this, other than to say we'd have to have another drip put in. I was in tears and so upset for my poor son, who'd already been through a lot of trauma even before getting into hospital. When I rang my mum, who is a nurse, she told me what a tissued cannula is, and why it happened. A day nurse finally gave Alex some sympathy. Another nurse told another mum that he was spoilt and not in pain. Fabulous day.
One good thing came out of this, I watched Alex's cannula like a hawk, and if he started to cry or be in pain, I vowed that I would make them remove it at once. At midnight on Friday night, he started to cry. The nurse advised me she'd slow it down. Still, he cried. I buzzed and the nurse told me that they'd stop it and try again later when he was asleep. No. No no no! I said "no. I want you to take it out now. I'm sorry, but I don't want him in any more pain". Luckily I had a supportive nurse, but I was prepared to get shouty if I had to. That's just what being mama is about.
So, here I sit, two days after his discharge from hospital. Alex has to be kept away from daycare and too much contact with other children. At the moment, I am not taking him to be around any children until I have the all clear from the Paediatrician. This is for the other kids' sake, but also for Alex's ....if there is any chance of him catching something else while his immune system is down, I absolutely don't want to take it.
but...as a result, I have cabin fever. I feel very restless and I want to work! But...I also know that most of the office admin jobs are full time and I want to be home with him at least a few days a week. I miss him too much when I work full time. So, what's a girl to do? Try and blog about it, make a list of fun stuff to do with him, count my blessings. Recover from the lack of sleep and try to be normal again. Stop having expectations of friends and family to come to my rescue. My life is mine and God's responsibility. Nobody else owes me a living.
Oh..and I'm gonna....eat a lot of carrots. No points!
Love you all
Deb xoxo
ps - google images came up with a pic of how his sores looked. this is similar, although his were all over one of his legs and on his face. poor monkey!
Kinda gross skin thingy...don't click if squeamish!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Pneumonia and Georgy
Pneumonia. I have it. But it's getting better.
What else has happened? Hmm, I worked full time for a month...but found it very very difficult with home responsibilities, and coming down from being in the play "Inheritance". Can I just say how much I loved being in Inheritance? First of all, I got to make some great friends, I got to do something I love (acting) and be a really challenging character. It was soooo funny backstage at this play - some plays, the actors just show up, do their stuff, and go. There's not much camaraderie and you don't feel you really crack the surface with the other actors. Not so with this play.
For a start, there was the chance to work again with Deb Hall and John Head, who both make me laugh and are awesome. I got to fight with both of them, and the faces that John would pull in one of our scenes made me lose it on many an occasion. There was even one performance when I sniggered slightly, then pulled myself up. JH also provided the idea for one of my killer lines - "awww...isn't that sweet? BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Each night, as I screeched this into poor Joyce's ear, I knew that backstage Mon and Leigh would be cracking up.
Fiona was an amazing director, providing crucial blocking, character ideas and inspiration....I found her direction so insightful and comforting, because you knew exactly where you stood. No second guessing.
I got the chance to work with Dale Jenke for the first time, playing his horrible (fish)wife, screeching at him and calling him a loser!! hehe. It was so fun, Dale is a real joker and saying "GOOOD TIMES" and "OH YEAH" after walking off stage became a habit for cast and crew alike. I loved the chance to work with Joyce and Anne, and the gorgeous Brian Gill....he is a very special man and will always be like a member of my family.
I loved my goils, too.....Kate and Sian, fighting over skirt lengths, yelling at them and generally being horrid. Loved giggling backstage after I'd told them to "GET IN THE CAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRR!!". These two chicks are totally gorgeous and destined for great things. so much talent!
It was very exciting to work with a professional actor, and Isaac Drandich was such a sweetie - he even told me it was great to work with me!! I was so thrilled, it was a bit nerve wracking the first time he saw us perform, but I really think that it made us bring our A game, and that the production was the better for it.
Leah and Monique were always making me laugh - Mon and I were thrilled the day that we discovered that we shared a passion for the young ones! Now I pester her all the time with random texts about sillliness. Being immature is one of my greatest joys and I have people to share that with now! hehe. Leah and Amanda are the bestest backstage crew and I loved the chance to work with them again.
I love theatre because you become like a little family, the week before and during production are so full on that you form stong alliances and get to know and love each other. It makes living in shepparton sweet, because I feel like I now know "my people", the arty farty set!
Anyhooo - the job. It was pressure-ful and demanding and not altogether fair. But, I feel I handled it really well, apart from a teary outburst on my last day. I met a lovely girl, Jo......and have become facebook friends with Mel because of it. I really like Mel, and it was great to find out that I wasn't the only one!
I'm in the process of finding a coupla day a week job, and getting back to health. Have been so sick for about a month that I didn't do anything, see anyone or write, watch tv, anything. It was awful....but I think what I needed to just have some me time and review.
And now, the Georgy awards! Well, I'm going to be brutally honest and say that I wish I'd have won a Georgy last night - because I am vain, hehe...and because I would have liked a chance to get up there and thank my gorgeous family and new friends. 3 years ago I was severely depressed and couldn't see how I would ever truly live again. Today I live in glorious technicolour, with a fabulous husband, beautiful boy, I feel truly blessed. I agree that a nomination is cause for celebration in itself!! Last night I dressed up and felt beautiful and comfortable in my own skin. It's been a long time coming - my teens and twenties were full of angst, and now I feel happy to be me, and happy to be where I am. Contentment rules.
What else has happened? Hmm, I worked full time for a month...but found it very very difficult with home responsibilities, and coming down from being in the play "Inheritance". Can I just say how much I loved being in Inheritance? First of all, I got to make some great friends, I got to do something I love (acting) and be a really challenging character. It was soooo funny backstage at this play - some plays, the actors just show up, do their stuff, and go. There's not much camaraderie and you don't feel you really crack the surface with the other actors. Not so with this play.
For a start, there was the chance to work again with Deb Hall and John Head, who both make me laugh and are awesome. I got to fight with both of them, and the faces that John would pull in one of our scenes made me lose it on many an occasion. There was even one performance when I sniggered slightly, then pulled myself up. JH also provided the idea for one of my killer lines - "awww...isn't that sweet? BREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Each night, as I screeched this into poor Joyce's ear, I knew that backstage Mon and Leigh would be cracking up.
Fiona was an amazing director, providing crucial blocking, character ideas and inspiration....I found her direction so insightful and comforting, because you knew exactly where you stood. No second guessing.
I got the chance to work with Dale Jenke for the first time, playing his horrible (fish)wife, screeching at him and calling him a loser!! hehe. It was so fun, Dale is a real joker and saying "GOOOD TIMES" and "OH YEAH" after walking off stage became a habit for cast and crew alike. I loved the chance to work with Joyce and Anne, and the gorgeous Brian Gill....he is a very special man and will always be like a member of my family.
I loved my goils, too.....Kate and Sian, fighting over skirt lengths, yelling at them and generally being horrid. Loved giggling backstage after I'd told them to "GET IN THE CAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRR!!". These two chicks are totally gorgeous and destined for great things. so much talent!
It was very exciting to work with a professional actor, and Isaac Drandich was such a sweetie - he even told me it was great to work with me!! I was so thrilled, it was a bit nerve wracking the first time he saw us perform, but I really think that it made us bring our A game, and that the production was the better for it.
Leah and Monique were always making me laugh - Mon and I were thrilled the day that we discovered that we shared a passion for the young ones! Now I pester her all the time with random texts about sillliness. Being immature is one of my greatest joys and I have people to share that with now! hehe. Leah and Amanda are the bestest backstage crew and I loved the chance to work with them again.
I love theatre because you become like a little family, the week before and during production are so full on that you form stong alliances and get to know and love each other. It makes living in shepparton sweet, because I feel like I now know "my people", the arty farty set!
Anyhooo - the job. It was pressure-ful and demanding and not altogether fair. But, I feel I handled it really well, apart from a teary outburst on my last day. I met a lovely girl, Jo......and have become facebook friends with Mel because of it. I really like Mel, and it was great to find out that I wasn't the only one!
I'm in the process of finding a coupla day a week job, and getting back to health. Have been so sick for about a month that I didn't do anything, see anyone or write, watch tv, anything. It was awful....but I think what I needed to just have some me time and review.
And now, the Georgy awards! Well, I'm going to be brutally honest and say that I wish I'd have won a Georgy last night - because I am vain, hehe...and because I would have liked a chance to get up there and thank my gorgeous family and new friends. 3 years ago I was severely depressed and couldn't see how I would ever truly live again. Today I live in glorious technicolour, with a fabulous husband, beautiful boy, I feel truly blessed. I agree that a nomination is cause for celebration in itself!! Last night I dressed up and felt beautiful and comfortable in my own skin. It's been a long time coming - my teens and twenties were full of angst, and now I feel happy to be me, and happy to be where I am. Contentment rules.
Love you all.
Deb xoxo
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